Inside the Center

Once inside, the arm set him into, then pressed him gently face down against, a vaguely female human sized and shaped cage, with his arms and legs fitting into the appropriate sections of the cage. The cage was segmented so portions of it could pivot and open. He tried to push himself up and out of the female shaped prison, but the back of the cage clanged shut, locking him in the cage. With the cage locked shut, he could barely move.

An arm rose upwards, unlocking the facial cage. Another arm rose, pushing a metal band up, wrapping it around his forehead, where it was securely fastened with a bolt to the metal cage. His head was now held fast, and he was unable to move it at all. Another small arm came up, and after a few starts and stops, apparently detecting where his lips were, applied a greasy substance to them. Another arm, this one with a small rolling sealer, pulled his lips into it, then rolling gently, pressed his lips together. He tried to yell, but found his lips had been glued shut. He “Mmmmmphed!” for all he was worth, struggling against the cage, but was held fast, as were his lips.

An automated arm descended from above, latching onto a ring on top of the cage Clark was trapped in. It retracted, slowly lifting the cage vertically, carrying him along to the next station. A red laser scanned up and down his body, apparently detecting his clothing. Unable to do anything, he could only feel the torso of the cage being opened. Small, sharp blades effortlessly cut his shirt off of him. This was repeated with his jeans and boxer shorts. His shoes and socks followed in short order. He hung in the gloom of the processing area, swaying gently in the cage, completely naked. A small cup attached to tubing that rose upwards dangled against the cage. He noticed it only as it was roughly pressed over his nose, where it adhered. It was firmly stuck to his skin, and no matter how much he wiggled his nose or moved his face, he was unable to knock it loose.

Still “Mmmmphing!” and trying to break free of the cage, the system moved him along again. This time, he was slowly lowered, cage and all, into a tall narrow cylinder of a fluid, until the liquid was just below his eyes. Although he could still breathe through the cup over his nose, his eyes watered, and he knew the liquid was teeming with chemicals of some sort.

After soaking for what felt like a long period of time, the cage was slowly raised, suspending him over the cylinder, allowing the excess liquid to drip back into the cylinder. A small nozzle appeared, spraying something around the nose cup, causing it to pop free of his face. He started to shiver, and this only made worse when he was rinsed roughly with cold water. If he had been able to look down, he would have seen all of his body hair that had been submerged in the liquid rinse effortlessly and permanently off.

After a brief stop through a strong, warm blast of air to dry him off, the cage came to a stop. The bottom of his prison was grabbed by a pneumatic clamp that hissed loudly as it closed on the bottom of the cage, steadying it from swaying and forcing Clark to face what appeared to be a small old-fashioned TV. It was squat, square, and had a vacant black screen in front of it. The clamp at the bottom of the cage slowly and methodically moved the cage up and down repeatedly until Clark’s face was centered in front of the device. He strained against the metallic headband as the cage portion in front of his face swung open. He tried to shout. This needed to stop! “Mmmmmph! MMMMMPPH!!!!” After sitting there for a few moments, staring into the black screen, several small arms came out and began stinging Clark’s face. He could smell electrical sparks as two arms shaped his eyebrows into feminine arches. His lips were strung by two other arms, as were his cheeks. He tried to move, tried to stop what !he feared was happening. He was having makeup tattooed on his face! After a painful eternity, the lip, brow, and cheek stinging stopped, and his eyes were forcibly held open as eyeliner was tattooed on. They were then pulled shut as eye shadow was tattooed on. He struggled mightily as false lashes were glued on, but could not do a thing to stop it.

He heard a few loud mechanical clanks and his arms were swung upwards until they were pointing straight ahead at shoulder height. The ends of the arm cages were opened, and a small box engulfed each hand. He could feel the long nails being applied, but he could not retract his arm or move his fingers. He could feel the same thing happening to his toes.

When the boxes retracted, Clark could see he had been given long, feminine nails that were painted hot pink. He groaned. He was being treated like one of the fertiles and this was going to take a lot of effort to undo.

He was startled when, with another loud hiss of air, a hot pink opera glove was slid up each arm. Rather than fingers, though, the gloves ended in stiff, thumbless mittens. He struggled, but the machine was relentless. His hands were in very short order rendered useless by the gloves. The arm cages were again closed and returned to his side where, again, they were locked in place.

The clamp at the bottom of the cage hissed open, and again, he was carried to the next station where another clamp steadied the cage, adjusting it so that he was again facing another blank screen box. This one also studied him for several long moments before more small arms came out and began weaving small clumps of long blonde hair onto his head. He “Mmmmpphhed!” loudly as the arms quickly, methodically, relentlessly gave him a full head of long blonde hair. The clamp at one point released the cage, rotating it one hundred and eighty degrees so the blond hair could be affixed to the back of his head. Eventually, his now long blonde tresses were pulled back into a ponytail with a stretchy band holding them in place. Mechanical shears quickly cut bangs across his neatly arched brows

Two new clamps appeared on either side of Clark’s head. With a hiss of compressed air, they clamped onto his earlobes and with a simultaneous pinch in each, Clark was now adorned with two large hoop earrings. Two more hisses and pinches resulted in two more stud earrings in each ear. He winced as a similar procedure placed a small diamond stud though his nose. Another clamp and hiss, followed by a sharp sting resulted in a hot pink crystal stud being **** through the cartilage of his upper left ear. A large hypodermic descended followed quickly by an agonizing pain as he felt something injected into the right side of his neck. A small scanner came down and beeped as it read the ID chip he'd just been implanted with. He knew he had just been introduced into the inventory of women in the Center and struggled mightily, but futilely, against the cage and the process.

Another small nozzle came out, determined where his mouth was, and sprayed something onto it. Clark coughed as it dissolved the glue holding his mouth shut. "HELP!! HELP M...." he started to shout when the machinery pryed his mouth open, inserting a tube into his throat. He heard a click and felt some pain in his throat as the probe retracted. Clark didn’t have much time to think about it as the machinery forcibly inserted a hot pink ball gag in his mouth, fastening it behind his head. A wide hot pink leather collar, complete with ring in the front, was fastened to his neck before the face cage slammed shut.

Still struggling as the cage moved to the next station, Clark knew he was running out of time to get out of this before things became very dangerous. After another clamp grabbed the bottom of the cage, steadying the cage at the next station. The torso portion of the cage opened. A hot pink satin corset was wrapped about his waist and the machine mercilessly tightened it, giving him both an hourglass figure and pushing loose skin up, giving him small, but noticeable, breasts.

He tried not to hyperventilate as the torso cage swung shut and the hip portion of the cage was opened. He couldn’t see it, but he felt the chastity belt slowly settle into place. His junk caused the machine several false starts, but as with everything else, it was eventually aligned and mercilessly locked in place, smashing his junk flat and hiding it from view. This was done to “protect the merchandise” from accidental (or intentional) insemination until, and often after, the auction. If he could have hung his head, he would have.

The final clamp station resulted in hot pink thigh high boots with a stiletto heel being rolled up his legs. To any outside observer, Clark was now just another fertile, ready to join the auction. His cage was then attached to an overhead conveyor, where he slowly was moved to a line of about 8 fertiles, all still locked in their cages, hanging from an overhead track exactly as Clark was. Their clothing, what little of it there was, all varied in color. Clark saw a red, a blue, and a black corset with matching thigh boots and gloves on several others as his cage came to a stop directly behind a fertile hanging in her cage. He swayed there, unable to move or say anything.

The fertile’s hair color all varied, too. Only one other was a blonde, like Clark. Some were redheads. Most were brunettes. After waiting for what he thought was hours, three more processed fertiles eventually fell into line behind him. The machinery jerked, and the group of processed fertiles and Clark lurched forward apparently being pulled by a chain that clacked loudly as it moved.